


I Will

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, post!scratch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-11
Updated: 2011-12-11
Packaged: 2017-10-27 05:29:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/292111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You realize, walking in to your first day of sixth grade and full on stopping since someone standing to your left’s laughter sounds so close to being familiar, even if it’s not quite right, that it’s because you’re listening for something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Will

**Author's Note:**

> Figured that some of this post!scratch stuff could use John’s point of view? Bluh ;w;

You’re ten years old and in the fourth grade and for whatever reason, you love jokes. A lot of your time is spent figuring out what makes people laugh and smile and what only makes them look at you funny, and by the end of fifth grade you’re spreading laughs as easily as you breathe. You don’t know why you’re so fixated on laughs; maybe it’s a little strange but no one ever questions why you only grin quietly when people chuckle at your shenanigans.

You realize, walking in to your first day of sixth grade and full on stopping since someone standing to your left’s laughter sounds so _close_ to being familiar _,_ even if it’s not quite right _,_ that it’s because you’re listening for something.

Unfortunately, you’re not exactly sure what it is that you’re listening for. On a certain day maybe sometime in eighth grade you ask your mom without thinking what you should get ’him’ for his birthday; she asks if this is about one of your friends from school, and you answer with ‘nevermind’ and don’t ask again. You can’t remember for the life of you who you were trying to talk about, and you really wish you did, but eventually you stop trying to think of a face or a name. Thinking about it makes you feel weird and empty and you don’t like it at all.

The years go by quick and you garner many, many laughs, and even if your high school teachers are the inwilling victims of a lot of your pranks they all jest that you should become a comedian someday.

You think you’d like that.

:

In fact, you think you’d like that so much that you spend hours every day in front of the mirror practicing, and after a while your parents learn that no, you’re not becoming antisocial or a shut-in, you’re just teaching yourself how to become funnier. More funny, whatever. You get better at thinking fast and at playfully making fun of people through the kids at your high school.

Senior year you finally catch wind of a place you can send in an application, and you tape a video with all your best jokes and stick it in the mail. You’re kind of nervous but something tells you that it’ll be okay.

You think it might be the thought that maybe someone ( _you think his name starts with an ‘S’, or maybe a ‘D’)_  will see it and laugh.

:

They mail you back within the next two or three months and say you’ve got real potential and that you should come up to visit the company for a day, golly. Your parents don’t want you to leave, they want you to get a real education, but boy do you want to go.

So you do.

You start off assissting around the studio and you learn a lot, though you complain in your head all the while. Soon you’re offered a small part in a show and you decide that you’ll work up from there.

So you do.

  
:

Sometime in the future, a hapless teenager whose name starts with an ‘S’ or maybe a ‘D’ spots one of your old broadcasts playing on a television in the window of a dingy old movie store, recognizes it as that old comedian named John Crocker, and full on stops for a moment.

He doesn’t laugh, but he smiles (just the tiniest bit) before continuing on his way.


End file.
